


Mirror Haus

by RadiantSeraphina (Lady_Arrowwood)



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Romance, Be Careful What You Wish For, Childhood, F/F, F/M, Fertility Issues, GSA Origin Story, New Parents, Nice guy, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/RadiantSeraphina
Summary: After learning he and his wife Elise cannot conceive, King Bikaia of Daydream summons one of the clockwork gods and wishes for a child. A baby fell from the stars, and he was named Arthur.  Then, another baby fell, and he was named Percival. Then, another, named Galacta. And another. And another.It's said that it takes a village to raise a child. Fortunately, Bikaia has the help of Galaxia and Nochecita, two priestesses of Nova, and Alb, his powerful court sorcerer. Unfortunately, one of them is trying to kill him.





	Mirror Haus

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the Kirby anime meets the Sword in the Stone meets a domestic romcom, where a super loving couple adopts a bunch of super-powered babies. It's actually really Sir Arthur and Galaxia-centric, although the first chapter might not necessarily indicate that. This is also really my first foray into putting Bikaia and Elise, who you may recognize if you've read my gijinka fics, into a more anime-esque verse.
> 
> I do want to express my thanks to @gigilefache's [doodles of Galaxia and Mirror Galaxia, who I've named Nochecita](https://gigilefache.tumblr.com/post/177182561982/pls-take-sword-doodles). I have (somewhat) shamelessly purloined these lovely designs for this fic. I've also somewhat shamelessly lifted @sociallyunacceptableorb's designs for Bikaia and Elise [which are adorable and can be seen here](http://sociallyunacceptableorb.tumblr.com/post/180725959833/dlus-power-couple-in-non-gijinka-form-ill-be)

The chimes echoed through the temple, startling the small, humanoid creature with a small, autumn-brown form, round, red eyes, and a mane of dark, wavy hair. She rubbed her unattached hands over her golden dress and then her veil, smoothing them. Then, she floated towards the temple entrance. Galaxia tried to keep her posture regal. She was a child of the race of light, after all, the direct descendants of the Ancients, the servants of the clockwork stars, and the keepers of the sacred fires. But visitors to the sea-side temple were few.

 

So few that Galaxia had never spoken to one. She wished desperately that Nochecita had been there with her. Nochecita was a young priestess, like Galaxia herself, but she was more sociable and less awkward. With her, Galaxia wouldn’t have fretted so strongly that she might accidentally embarrass herself.

 

Galaxia slowed her pace as she reached the temple entrance, a place made entirely of glass, which cast spots of light and color over the floor, dutifully polished to a mirror sheen by the novice priestesses. At the entrance, there stood a blue puffball, a little smaller than most. He wore a small, golden crown perched crookedly atop his head and a dark blue cape fastened with a softly glowing star. Beneath his cape, flecked with snow, Galaxia saw the hilt of a sword peeking out. King Bikaia of Daydream. As Galaxia approached, she bowed and hoped the king didn’t notice that she trembled slightly in his presence. She was a young priestess, only recently given the opportunity to read the sacred fires that she tended, and this was a _king._ The most powerful king on the whole planet. “Hello, Your Majesty,” Galaxia greeted. “I am Galaxia, keeper of the sacred fires. Welcome to our temple.”

 

“Thank you,” Bikaia replied, bowing respectfully. “I have come seeking your guidance, noble priestess.”

 

He had a pleasant manner of speaking, very soft and very kind. Galaxia’s stomach lurched when she thought of giving _him_ guidance, even though she’d read the flames hundreds of times. What if the king was displeased with her answer? What if all of Galaxia’s knowledge of flame-reading suddenly evaporated like morning dew beneath sunlight?

 

“Come with me, then,” Galaxia said.

 

Galaxia swept away, keeping her pace slow. Bikaia’s race did not float upon the air as Galaxia’s did. Instead, they walked, their movements always accompanied by a faint padding noise.

 

“I do beg your most gracious pardon,” Bikaia said, “For tracking snow onto your temple floors.”

 

Galaxia hadn’t noticed. She was too busy fidgeting with her hands. Nochecita wouldn’t have fidgeted. She’d have faced this king with all the grace and elegance required of a priestess of the sacred fires. Galaxia was so nervous that she’d forgotten to respond to the king’s inquiry, and then, she became awkward, unsure whether responding late would make the whole affair more uneasy.

 

“Have you been a priestess long?” the king asked.

 

No. “Yes,” Galaxia lied, worried that Bikaia might be discomfited by her inexperience.

 

Most priestesses were chosen from birth, but Galaxia hadn’t been. She’d been picked during her adolescence, taken from her father’s forge and brought to serve the clockwork gods. It was a high honor, even if it hadn’t been one she’d wanted. And at first, it had been terribly lonely. That was, until she’d met Nochecita.

 

Galaxia entered the inner chamber, noting that Bikaia dipped his head respectfully in the sacred space. It wasn’t much to look at, very round and sparse, illuminated only by the massive fire in the room’s center. Galaxia beckoned for Bikaia to move closer, and he did. The flames ‘ light licked over his face, casting warm shadows over his features. Galaxia stood across from him and breathed in deeply. The warmth of the flames caressed her body and sank in deep, down to her hollow bones and into her blood.

 

“Why are you here, Your Majesty?” Galaxia asked.

 

“My wife and I cannot conceive a child,” Bikaia said softly. “I wish to know why.”

 

Galaxia saw the answer in the sacred fire. It was true. The king and queen of Daydream would never bear a child, and Galaxia saw why as clearly as she saw the dawn each morning. Galaxia cupped her small hands around the flame, stalling. How would King Bikaia take the news? Galaxia had heard and read tales of kings before, and they tended to—from her experience—blame their wives for any difficulties in bearing heirs. What if Galaxia’s words spelled disaster for the queen of Reverie? Or even just her relationship with the king?

 

But maybe that wouldn’t happen. Although she had little dealings with the royal family, Galaxia had heard the rumors about young King Bikaia, and the rumors said that there had never been a man so singularly devoted to his wife. Maybe Elise need not fear anything at all.

 

“Your wife is not the cause of your infertility,” Galaxia said, carefully letting the words fall.

 

Bikaia sighed. “Then, I’ve failed her,” he muttered, looking askance.

 

His shoulders slumped. He seemed to wilt against the ground, drooping like a small, blue flower that hadn’t received enough love. Galaxia’s heart stirred with pity. Bikaia looked as if his life had just fallen apart before him. It was a little easier to talk to him, then. He didn’t look like a cold, distant monarch anymore. Just some poor man who couldn’t have a child, which must have been a terrible burden.

 

“If the Queen had been the cause, would you say she’d failed you?” Galaxia asked gently.

 

Bikaia shook his head. “No, of course not. She’s my sweet Elise, and I love her life more than my own.”

 

“I don’t think the Queen would say you’d failed her either.”

 

“She wouldn’t,” Bikaia admitted. “It’s just hard—knowing how much she desperately wants a child. I suppose we can always adopt, though. Your temple is long-known to be a refuge for orphaned children. Have you any now? I don’t mind what race they are.”

 

Galaxia shook her head. “We’ve had no orphans in a century or more.”

 

Bikaia looked so comically startled that Galaxia had to stifle a laugh. “But there must be orphans somewhere in my realm,” Bikaia said.

 

Galaxia glanced into the fire. “Orphans,” she said, reading what she saw, “Are made by strife and mischance. There are orphans in your kingdom, but they’re already been adopted by loving families. I cannot find a single child in need of a loving parent.”

 

“Really?” Bikaia asked. “That’s…”

 

“I apologize for your having such wonderful infrastructure and social programs in your kingdom,” Galaxia said wryly. “I fear you’ve choked out all the evil in your kingdom.”

 

“Oh, I doubt that,” Bikaia said. “I’ve found, noble priestess, that evil is something that is forever springing forth, like a weed. It might be slain for a time, but it will always return.”

 

“Wise words,” Galaxia conceded, “And yet I cannot find a single orphan within your kingdom.”

 

“Well…” Bikaia trailed off. “I mean, I had—I had assumed there might be _one_.”

 

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty.”

 

Bikaia paused. “You are a priestess of Nova,” he said. “Is there a way I might summon one of the clockwork gods and wish for a child?”

 

Galaxia blinked a few times, taken aback. “There is, Your Majesty, but summoning any one of the clockwork gods is a terribly arduous task. Doing so would require a good deal of effort and magical power.”

 

Bikaia’s eyes were like kindling, sparkling softly with light and determination. “I am no stranger to arduous tasks, and if I meet any difficulty, I’m quite sure my court sorcerer Alb would be willing to aid my endeavors.”

 

Galaxia breathed in the incense and the firelight. “Very well, Your Majesty,” she said, “This is what you must do…”

 


End file.
